I've never been so scared in my life, but armed with a ski mask, a leather jacket, and a tennis racket, I'm ready to take on the flying demon . . . er, bat.

When ghostwriter Maz Amani inherits a house from an uncle he’s never heard of, he offers heartfelt thanks to the universe, packs up his car, his cat, and his skepticism about mysterious uncles leaving all their worldly goods to unknown nephews, and high-tails it to a small town halfway to the Oregon coast. Anything would be better than week after week of couch surfing his way around Portland. Even if the alleged house is a rundown shack ridden with termites, spiders, and—shudder—rats, he’ll deal. Because hey, he owns a house!

I've spent most of my life knowing that supernatural creatures exist but never really interacting with any, so my knowledge of them is limited. Still, who would've thought a demisexual incubus was a thing? Well apparently, not only is it a thing, but I have one who claims to be my soulmate—or viramore, as he calls it. And now he has it in his head that he's going to save me from my past.

Well, he loves the idea of his job. It’s just that the reality of marketing isn’t a creative joy, it’s a soul-crushing corporate rat race. His boss keeps taking credit for his work, and his coworkers couldn’t be less sympathetic if they tried.

As a teen, Drake ran away and found the Black Cat Circus, he thought it was his ticket out of town. Instead, he found a family and discovered a magical world he never knew existed. Becoming the Daredevil was a perfect fit for him and the adrenaline-loving beast within. Now, ten years later, he’s returning to the town he left as a kid and it’s stirring up a lot of emotions. A shy but sweet man with a camera captures his attention completely. Even Drake’s dragon craves him.

Alpha of the Hellhound enforcers, Derek doesn't think he has time for a mate until the Paranormal Council of the city gives him one. Hollis is a smart, funny, vulnerable human, and his police commissioner uncle has designs to use Hollis's new mating for his own ends. He'll learn quickly not to mess with a hellhound's mate.

Devlin “Dev” Espinosa lives in the shadows of the criminal underworld. As a Ferryman, his job is to safely transport “the dead” to their new lives, no questions asked. With no one to answer to, lots of cash, and access to The Anonymous–an exclusive club for the elite–Dev is loving life. Until Remy Corbin gets into his car. Remy is just a regular guy working a regular bartending job. At least, that’s what he thought before walking in on his boss taking someone out. Witnessing the assassination paints a target on Remy’s back, and when the bullets fly, he jumps into a stranger’s car.

What happens when you fall and hit the webtoons trope tree? You get killed by Truck-kun, get transported to a fantasy world by a sentient Fae coin, and become the first gay holy maiden. Jake Alexander is Not Happy to be sure. Fortunately in Jake's case, part of the trope tree includes the gorgeous Duke of the North, Theon. And starting a business from scratch, which he's always wanted to do. And revitalizing his new country which is on the verge of collapse.

Who is the beautiful demonic stranger in my dreams? That’s what I want to know. But between my research at Hex Academy and preparing for my unfortunate nuptials to a fellow witch, I don’t have time to explore why the demon seems so familiar. I just know the demon is important, but why?

Lucas used to be a normal person. Was it really so bad that he had a job he didn't like, and he still lived with his parents? At least he didn't have balls of light shooting out of him. Oh wait. Yes, he does. And he's not sure why it's happening or what to do about it. But it gets worse. Way worse and deadlier than Lucas had ever thought possible. Running for his life, he ends up in a small town named Saint Lakes and right into the arms of a dragon shifter who claims to be his fated mate.

Ash is technically a fire mage, but he can't do much. Turning his bedroom lights on and off without having to get out of bed isn't exactly awe inspiring, not when anyone with the right gadget could clap and do the same thing. Worse, sometimes he senses something bigger and brighter lurking under his skin, and it feels so familiar he knows it has to be his magic, but then he burps or sneezes, and the feeling passes. So it's probably just allergies . . . or gas. Yeah . . . Not exactly brimming with magical oomph. Not anymore. It sucks.

Escape to a Winter Wonderland with CEO and billionaire Colton Connolly as he embarks on a shenanigan-filled journey in search of the idyllic white Christmas he's always craved. Inspired by the enchantment of his favorite holiday movies, Colton surprises his beloved husband and their found family with a trip to the captivating mountain town of Winterhaven.

Leander Mast didn’t ask to come to Rivenfield, and he definitely didn’t ask to be thrust into the middle of a neighborhood battle over an ancient tree, but as a Giwoggle—who goes wherever a witch might conjure him—he doesn’t have much choice in the matter. And Leander definitely doesn’t count on getting stuck. While Leander attempts to get home, struggling against the magic keeping him from stepping outside the town limits, he butts heads with Ben, his new grumpy neighbor. And it doesn’t help that Leander cut down Ben’s tree.

After years of working my butt off, I'm finally living the life I always wanted. I have a job I love, friends who've become family, and I'm enjoying the freedom of being single. Then Sebastian, my childhood rival, moves back to town, and my perfect life is thrown into chaos. We've always hated each other, but now there's something else between us. Something wild and primal. Something that wants to make Sebastian submit as much as it wants to claim him.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the hot guy next door totally gives off serial killer vibes. Why else would he know how long it takes to bleed out from a wound? Yeah, ok, so I asked, but it was research. Being an author definitely makes for some odd questions (someone had better clear my browser history when I die, that's all I'm saying). It's not like I'm stalking my hot neighbor or anything—there's nothing wrong with watching him out my window. Although I might have my own stalker (and not the cute harmless kind), which is kind of terrifying.